


Iron Box

by Bishie Huntress (Artemystic)



Series: 2015 NaNo Prompts [8]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Faerie AU, Gen, Possibly pre-Roy/Ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 22:36:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6132448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemystic/pseuds/Bishie%20Huntress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finding a way out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iron Box

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's been awhile. Sorry! RL has been about as fun as it ever is... 
> 
> I don't recall if I ever mentioned, but I originally attempted to re-rewrite an original story for NaNo. I gave up on that rather quickly, and my second idea was a full-length FMA fic. Obviously, that didn't happen, but this oneshot is set somewhere in that story/world. And while this isn't slash, I had planned for that story to be, so you're welcome to read it as pre-slash if you like. =)
> 
> Btw, tags suck. Other people's are so much fun to read, but when I'm supposed to tag my own stories, my mind is all, "Huuuhhh....." XP

### Iron Box

Roy hissed as the door clanged shut behind them. He picked up his feet as though he was walking on hot coals, trying to find a place to set them down.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ed demanded, slumping against the bars of their prison.

“I can’t… Ow, shit!” Roy continued his strange little dance over to the cot and fell onto it, drawing his knees up.

Ed stared. He could count the number of times he’d heard Roy cuss on no fingers. “Can’t what?” he said, looking at the floor. Tentatively, he took a few steps around, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Roy leaned back against the cold wall and jerked upright again. “Shit!” he hissed.

“Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Ed flopped down on the floor a couple feet from the cot. He caught a glimpse of the soles of Roy’s feet. “The fuck?” he said again. Roy’s feet were red, covered in blisters. Some had broken open and were weeping clear fluid that slid down his feet to collect in droplets on his heels before pattering to the floor. He scooted forward, grabbing one of Roy’s feet before he could pull it away and turning it toward the meager light coming from the corridor outside the door.

“What is this? Did they do something to you?” Ed demanded angrily. Roy might be a bastard, but he didn’t deserve _torture_. Most days.

Roy laughed mirthlessly. “You could say that,” he said.

Ed frowned. “Did they hurt you anywhere else?” he asked, letting go of Roy’s foot and standing. He grabbed Roy’s arms, checking them for signs of abuse.

Roy pulled away, flinching when his left arm hit the wall. “Leave it, Ed,” he growled.

Ed stepped back. “I’m only trying to help,” he said, leveling his best glare at the bastard.

Roy sighed, pulling his feet carefully back up to the edge of the cot and wrapping his arms around his knees. On his left arm was a new black bruise.

“Wait, you didn’t have that bruise a minute ago!” Ed said, pointing accusingly. “You couldn’t have hit the wall that hard. I’ve punched you harder than that.”

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Edward. What are the bars of this prison made of?”

Ed frowned, looking over at the cell’s door. “I dunno. Some kind of metal?”

“Very good, Edward.”

“No need to be condescending, bastard.”

Roy’s hand tunneled through his dark hair. “Iron, Ed. The cell is made of iron.”

“Well, that would make sense,” Ed said. “Iron is a pretty common ore in these parts. In fact, back home, we often use it for—Oh.”

“Yes, Edward, _oh_. There is iron in the floor and in the walls. Quite a bit of it.” Roy shot a glare at the floor of their cell. “This prison is poison to my kind.” He shivered, and Ed didn’t think it was from cold.

Ed paced back and forth. “Well, can’t you just use your magic to get us out of here?” he asked.

“Even if my magic was at full strength, the iron would block it.” Roy dropped his head to his knees. “We’re trapped, and I’m going to die in this little iron box,” he said into the circle of his arms.

Ed rolled his eyes. “Stop being so melodramatic, bastard. Hey, why isn’t the iron affecting me, then?”

Roy turned his head, peering at Ed with one eye. “Dirty blood,” he said.

Ed felt heat flare across his face. “What the actual _fuck_ , Roy! I thought we were past all that!”

Roy raised his eyebrow, and if Ed hadn’t been so pissed, he’d have laughed at how ridiculous that made Roy look.

“I didn’t mean it as an insult,” he said calmly. “It was simply the easiest way to state my thoughts.”

Ed crossed his arms over his chest, turning to look at the cell door. “Yeah, well, find some other _less_ easy way to say it, then! Fucker,” he muttered.

Roy dropped his head against his knees again, and then once more for good measure. “ _Fine._ Your human blood no doubt allows you to sit in this room without feeling the strength drain from you. The iron in your own blood protects you.”

Ed gave Roy a sidelong look. “You don’t have iron in your blood?” he asked, curious despite himself. At Roy’s nod—face still hidden—he said, “ _Really?_ ”

Roy heaved a loud sigh. “Yes, Edward. _Really_.”

“Oh. Huh.” There was silence as Ed pondered this new information.

“So,” he said at length, “if we were to introduce iron into your bloodstream, give you some of my blood or something, what would that do to you?”

Roy looked at Ed over his knees, dark eyes serious. “You would consign me to the most painful death imaginable,” he said without a trace of humor.

“Well, that’s out, I guess.” Ed sat on the cot next to Roy, who glared but made no effort to move away. This close, Ed could see fine tremors running over his skin. “You cold?” he asked.

“No,” Roy said shortly. Another shiver wracked his body.

Ed looked at him doubtfully. “Yeah, and I’m a freakin’ giant.” He grabbed the threadbare blanket from the cot behind them and shook it out. Dust flew everywhere, making his eyes water. He sneezed a few times for good measure. When he felt that his sinuses were under control, he took a look at the blanket. There were holes chewed through it, and it was covered in various stains that he decided he was better off not thinking about. He looked at Roy, then back at the blanket.

“Don’t even _th-think_ about it,” Roy growled.

Ed sighed and wadded the blanket into a ball before tossing it to the far corner of the room. He wiped his hands on his trousers for good measure. Then he stood and shrugged out of his jacket.

“What are you d-doing?” Roy asked, watching him suspiciously.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Ed muttered. “I can’t just let you freeze.” He tried to drape his jacket around Roy’s shoulders, but Roy leaned away from him.

“I d-don’t want your filthy jacket. It’s hardly better than that blanket.”

Ed stopped, still holding the jacket up between them. “It’s not that gross,” he said, offended. “Before this mess you dragged us into, I kept my clothes spotless.”

“ _I_ dragged us into this mess?” Roy shivered hard, arms clenching tight around his knees. “I assure you, I h-had nothing to do with this.”

“Regardless,” Ed said, waving a hand to push Roy’s words aside, “you’re obviously cold. Take the damn jacket.”

“Not c-cold,” Roy said stubbornly, tightening his arms again as another shudder ran through him. He rested his chin on his knees and stared at the far wall. “Weak,” he whispered, so quietly that Ed only caught it because he’d seen his lips move.

Ed stepped forward, wrapping the coat over Roy’s shoulders before he had time to react. He made to shrug out of it, but Ed held the lapels tight. “Whether you’re cold or not, let me help,” he said.

Roy sat very still, refusing to meet his gaze. “I cannot. You are _s’kalin_.”

Ed straightened as if stung, hands falling away from the jacket. He took a step back, then two, then spun on his heel and strode to the far end of the cell, which was all of three paces. It wasn’t enough to ease the anger hot inside him and he whirled around, stomping back over to Roy. He grabbed the jacket again and shook him, too angry to notice the way Roy’s head wobbled back and forth.

“What the hell,” he growled, low and angrier than he remembered being in years. “What the _hell_ is your problem? One minute, you’re halfway decent, and the next, you’re an absolute fucking dick! _What_ did I _ever_ do to you?!”

Roy’s hands grasped weakly at Ed’s wrists. “S-stop,” he managed breathlessly.

Ed suddenly realized the condition Roy was in and dropped his hands. Roy fell over to lay curled on his side, gasping for air. Ed was reminded of a fish out of water, and his stomach clenched.

“Look,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. “Look,” he tried again, “I didn’t mean to… Are you okay?”

Roy nodded, but his eyes were unfocused, staring into the distance. “Just… getting worse,” he rasped. He curled up into a ball, whimpering.

Ed looked at the mess Roy had become in just a matter of moments. He’d had no idea iron was so lethal. Well, he knew iron weapons killed them, but he just figured the iron allowed someone to get past their magical defenses, and the weapon did the rest. This, though… He swallowed. At this rate, Roy was going to die, and soon. He had to do something.

He pivoted on the ball of his foot, marching over to the bars. “Hey!” he shouted, giving the door a good shake. “Hey! I know you can hear me! Let us out!”

Silence answered him. Ed shook the bars again, kicking them for good measure. He turned, surveying the walls of their little cell. There was not much to see. Three solid stone walls surrounded them, walls apparently laced with large amounts of iron. A small, barred window high in the corner allowed weak, cloudy light to filter in. There was a tiny drain in the corner—no help there, unless he needed to piss—and, of course, the wall of iron bars. _Damn._ He walked back over to Roy and knelt next to the cot.

“I don’t really see a way out of here,” he said, feeling useless. In a fight, he could handle himself just fine, but he had no idea what to do in this situation.

“It’s… alright, Edward,” Roy hissed, his eyes squeezed shut as tremors repeatedly wracked his frame. Not knowing what else to do, Ed laid a hand carefully on Roy’s shoulder. His stomach twisted itself in painful knots as he watched Roy breathing shallowly, felt as he curled tighter, shaking and shivering in pain. A soft, high sound escaped Roy’s throat, proof of his torment.

“Damn it!” Ed said, pounding his fist on the floor. “It’s _not_ fucking alright!” He dropped his head, staring at the floor without seeing it. Then his eyes focused. “What the hell,” he said for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The floor around his fist was cracked and chipped, a starburst pattern radiating out from where his hand had hit.

“Roy,” he said urgently. “Roy! My hand!”

Roy groaned, his eyes clenched shut. “Wh-what about it?” he gasped out.

“It… broke the floor.” Ed lifted his hand and looked at the floor. It was still broken. “What did I do?” he demanded.

Roy opened his eyes and stared at Ed for a moment without seeing him. Then he managed to focus, and his eyes widened. “ _S-s’kalin_ ,” he panted.

“Stop calling me names, you bastard! What happened?” Ed shook Roy’s shoulder again, but stopped when Roy cried out sharply. “Damn _fuck._ ”

“ _S-s’kalin_ ,” Roy breathed again, looking at him as though willing him to understand, but Ed was clueless. “You have… h-have… the blood,” he managed to get out before another wave of agony washed over him.

“The what?”

The pain subsided for a moment, and Roy said, “ _S-s’kalin!_ ” But then the pain was back and he was writhing on the bed as though he was on fire.

“Shit, damn!” Ed stood, pacing in tight circles. “Okay, _s’kalin_. Dirty blood, I get it. So I have the blood. So what?!” He turned back to Roy.

“N-not— _haah_ —dirty. H— _aah!_ —half. Half, Ed!” Roy’s back arched, his hands clawing at his hair and his eyes rolling back in his head as he keened.

“Okay. Fuck fuck fuck! Um… half, half.” Ed gripped his hair and pulled. “ _Think,_ Ed! Not dirty blood. Half blood…” Realization swept through him. “The blood. I have the blood!” He turned to Roy, disbelieving. “I have the blood?”

“Y-yes— _aah!_ ” Roy’s body couldn’t seem to decide if it wanted to curl up or stretch to escape its suffering.

“Then I can—“ Ed broke off and marched to the cell door. “I can do _this_ ,” he said, grabbing hold of a bar and yanking as hard as he could. To his everlasting amazement, the bar shattered at both ends like a dry, brittle twig. He stared at the piece of metal in his hand. Then he dropped it and kicked another out of the way.

At the sound of metal clanging against the stone floor, a guard came hurrying down the corridor, sword drawn. “Hey! Get back in your cell!”

“As if, you fucking pile of shit!” Ed grabbed another bar and pulled it free, then hurled it at the guard. It flew end over end toward the guard, but he ducked and it flew wide, clattering harmlessly to the ground. Ed grabbed another bar, and as he chucked it, he felt a surge of energy pulse hot through his chest and down his arm. The iron bar glowed cherry-red as it flew through the air and struck the guard across the face. He screamed and went down, and his head hit the flagstones with a crunch that made Ed a little nauseous. Ed looked down at his hand in astonishment. “What the fuck did I just do?” he said aloud, but if Roy heard, he didn’t answer.

Ed hurried down the corridor. Grasping the front of the man’s shirt, he used it to drag his body back into the cell. Then he turned to the cot and pulled Roy up into a sitting position. “Fuck!” he wheezed. “You’re fucking _heavy!_ ” Roy didn’t respond. His head lolled to the side, hair falling over his slack features.

“Oh _fuck_ no!” Ed said. He leaned down and dragged Roy over his shoulder. Then he was ducking through the broken bars, being careful to keep Roy’s body as far from the iron as possible. “There is no fucking way you’re gonna die and abandon me here, bastard. You hear me?” But Roy remained silent as Ed ran, searching for the way that would lead him out.

 


End file.
